


Bargains

by whichstiel



Series: Season 13 Codas [19]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s13e21 Beat the Devil, Gen, Reapers, Resurrection, beat the devil, episode coda, spn 13x21
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 01:59:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14534208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichstiel/pseuds/whichstiel
Summary: Sam bargains for his life with a reaper in the alternate universe.





	Bargains

It felt suddenly colder in the tunnel than Sam remembered, and much darker. The rough hewn walls beneath the mountains seemed to narrow around him and Sam swayed where he stood as the world spun. Slowly the surrounding rock came into focus, filtered to charcoal tones in the unearthly underground light. Vampires growled just ahead of him, guttural and fierce, and Sam noticed with horror that a little green light bobbled away from him. It was one of the of the glow sticks. In the feeble false light he could just make out the rough outlines of a body dragged along the ground.

“My knife. My gun,” Sam gasped as his fingers fluttered along his hips, along his back. “Where--?” The glowstick's light receded further into the tunnel and something seemed to hook into Sam's gut. It felt like clawing despair. Like he needed whatever - or whomever - was on the ground. Frantically he tried to remember who the vampires might have seized. Dean? Cas? Maggie?   
  
Sam began to run.

It felt like he was running in a dream, each foot weighed down by irons or thick tar. Sam pushed his body through the tunnel, gaining on the growling vampires with every step. He flexed his fingers and then curled his hands into fists, ready to fight them bare knuckled. His eye caught on an old fence stake lying on the ground, gray with age. Orange caution tape trailed from one end of it. Sam bent down in mid-stride, ready to pick it up. His fingers passed through it as though the wood was as insubstantial as air.

Desperately, Sam tried to grab the stake two more times before realization traveled coldly up his spine. His breath stuttered, then stopped altogether.

_ Please. _

_ Please let this be a dream. _   
  
Sam closed his eyes and the snarling from the vampires, the sound of ripping flesh, filled the corridor. “Oh my god,” he whispered. “No.”

A shriek echoed from around the corner and as Sam opened his eyes to look around again, the vampires he had been chasing rounded the corner and loped down the tunnel towards him. Blood saturated them, staining their clothing black and their mouths and cheeks red. They ran towards Sam, their faces a grim sketch of a clown’s mask, and then they ran right through him.   
  
“Fuck.”   
  
Despair caught Sam like a quick, clawed beast. He doubled over, hands clutching his insubstantial knees. Out of habit he took deep breaths in and out. In and out. “Okay,” he said at last. “I’m dead. But I can fix this, right? I can fix this.” He stood then and strode down the corridor again. Just around the corner he was met with a dead end room. Bodies lay in it, half consumed. His body lay in the room. 

Near his head stood a tall figure in a black trenchcoat. Her hair was moonlight pale, cut into close curls that chiseled her face into a sharp outline. She wore a thin white t-shirt and skinny black jeans under her coat, and her thin, brown hand clutched a burning cigarette. The cigarette glowed red in the dim room. She took a drag and quirked a sharp smile at Sam. “Worked it out then?”   
  
Sam gaped at her for a moment, struck by her almost indifferent attitude. “I'm dead,” he offered carefully.   
  
“You certainly are,” the reaper said. “In fact, you--” She paused and slowly withdrew the cigarette from her lip. Her eyes traveled the length of him and then flicked between Sam’s soul and his body. “Stop. This isn't right.” Her eyes narrowed. “You're not right. Who are you?”   
  
Sam sucked in a breath. Over the years, dealing with Death and their reapers had removed much of his fear of them, but this was still an unknown reaper in another world. He would need to tread carefully when it came time to negotiate his resurrection. He raised his hands out of long habit and approached her with careful steps. “My name is Sam Winchester,” he said. “And I come from another world. A parallel universe.”   
  
He expected the reaper to be astonished, maybe. Curious, at least. Instead she snorted. “Oh, is that all? Well, you picked a shitty place to die.” She shrugged. “But since you're here you should know that you have a choice for your afterlife.”   
  
Sam blinked at her. “A choice?”   
  
The reaper nodded and resumed her smoking. “We've got no records of...well...any Sam Winchester. You're obviously not a monster, though you've got--” She looked him over again and then shook her head. “You're not a monster. So you've got three choices. They're... None of them are good, but they're all I can offer at the mo-”   
  
“Yeah, I know,” Sam said, a little sharply. Most of the reapers they'd encountered showed a little more respect to the dead, even if it had always been a little condescending. This one had nonchalance bursting from every inch of her. Worry prickled at him. “I understand about Heaven. Hell.” He frowned. “Wait. Since when do you let people choose where to go?”

The reaper rolled her eyes. “Oh, honey. You’re new so I’ll play along. Here’s the summary. You know about the Veil? About Heaven and Hell?”

“Intimately.”

She raised her brow at that but continued. “Heaven's a joke since Michael killed Lucifer. Paradise is just a bad punchline. If it were me,” she said, tossing her cigarette to the ground by Sam's still head and grinding it out with the toe of her boot, “I'd go to Hell.”   
  
“And why's that?”   
  
“At least there you'll have a fighting chance at having an afterlife.” She frowned. “You stay on Earth and you'll go mad.”   
  
“I know what happens to souls in the Veil. I’m a hunter.” Sam hugged his arms around him as a shiver tried to fight through him. “What's wrong with Heaven? Is this Heaven falling apart too?”   
  
The reaper’s eyes narrowed at him. She mirrored his pose, arms crossed. “I'd be curious to learn what your world's like if your Heaven is ‘falling apart’” she said, lifting one hand to trace quotation marks in the air. “But no. Heaven here is a glorified lockbox. It used to be a prison with happy little perks. Now it's just a prison. A power plant for Michael's war. And when he's done...” She shook her head.   
  
“He'll destroy Heaven?”   
  
“Consume it, if he can. Let it fall to Earth, if he can't. He’ll turn this world into a wasteland of tormented human souls. But if you're in Hell? Well, you might survive to have an afterlife. Get a little self-determination.” She sighed. “So knowing that, what'll it be?”

“Look,” Sam said. “Michael’s war is destroying your universe. He’s threatening to destroy mine now. If you work with me - with my friends - we can help you take him down.”

The reaper looked at Sam pityingly. “I don’t know why you’re here,” she said quietly. “But there’s no undoing this road. It was prophesied that--”

“That prophecy didn’t have to come true,” Sam told her in earnest tones. “My brother and I - we changed that in our world.” He watched her eyes widen slightly at this and hope fluttered somewhere in his soul. “Michael can be stopped. If you bring me back, I can--”

“Okay. Nope. No.” She raised her hands and laughed bitterly at Sam. “That’s a great story. It really is. But you’re dead. You’re not coming back.”

“I know you have the power,” Sam said. “Please, believe me when I say that if you bring me back my goal is going to be cutting off the threat of Michael in whatever way I can. He’s threatening my world just as much as he is yours.”   
  
The reaper looked at him sadly. “There is no stopping Michael,” she said. “And there will be no 'bringing you back.' I’m sorry, but that’s my final word.”

“Please,” Sam begged. “Please believe me. I need to finish this mission. I’m so close! I was so close.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again and folded her hands formally in front of her. “What is your choice? If you make none, I’ll leave you to the Veil.”

Sam looked at her, his mouth slack in despair as he searched for an argument that would sway her. His gaze trailed to his body lying still at her feet, his throat torn open. He felt trapped by the finality of his own ravaged body.

Something crashed distantly in the tunnel and then howling rose up like a tornado until the entire room seemed to crescendo with the cries of feral vampires in the tunnels. Sam whirled towards the entrance, hands up out of instinct. Soon, something glowed angelic blue, reflecting off the walls. “Cas,” Sam gasped. “Gabriel?”

A man stepped into the room and Sam felt his heart drop to his feet. “Guess again,” Lucifer said with a grin. He looked over Sam’s shoulder at the reaper. “Beat it,” he ordered. 

“Lucifer?” the reaper gasped and Lucifer rolled his eyes. He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. Sam didn’t need to turn around to know that the reaper had exploded into dust behind him. He fought to keep from flinching as Lucifer settled his gaze once again on Sam. 

Lucifer clicked his tongue. “Oh, Sammy. Always getting yourself killed.” He winked and waggled his shoulders. “Have I got a proposition for you.”

“I’ll never make a deal with you,” Sam spat. “How the hell did you get over here?”

“Oh, long story.” Lucifer’s hand clenched the air, as though wrapping around a neck. “Doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that I’m here to help you out of your little pickle.”

“Like hell you will--”

“You know what?” Lucifer interrupted. “I think this conversation will be about a hundred times more effective if we get that little heart pumping again.”

“What?”

Lucifer wiggled his fingers. “See you on the other side,” he said with a smile, and then raised his hand.

The world wrapped around Sam like a great, black wave and when he finally surfaced again, it was with burning lungs as he sucked in his first breath. Memories of a sorrowful woman standing over his body dissolved into nothing. Sam pulled himself up, ready to fight.

**Author's Note:**

> Vomits out more headcanon.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/whichstiel) and [Tumblr](http://whichstiel.tumblr.com/) @ whichstiel. You may also like the Supernatural recap and gif blog I co-write/curate, [Shirtless Sammy](https://shirtlesssammy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
